


Cherry Ames, Summer Camp Nurse

by Edonohana



Category: Cherry Ames - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Historical, Mystery, Nursing, Summer Camp, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-29
Updated: 2009-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edonohana/pseuds/Edonohana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though she had uncovered a ruthless criminal and saved the life of a child, her long trek through the snow had left her run-down and sensitive to cold. But she couldn't resist such a desperate plea for aid. Besides, being a summer camp nurse for high-spirited teenagers would be as good as a vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Ames, Summer Camp Nurse

Cherry's black curls bobbed in the wind. She batted them out of her eyes, but a second later they were back, dancing in the pine-scented wind.

She knew that she ought to have gotten a hair cut before her arrival at Camp Sequoia, but she had barely had time to pack. It had only been a few days ago that she had received the phone call begging her to take over for the nurse who had been taken ill. Cherry had planned to spend the summer resting and recovering after her harrowing experience in Alaska. Though she had uncovered a ruthless criminal and saved the life of a child, her long trek through the snow had left her run-down and sensitive to cold. But she couldn't resist such a desperate plea for aid. Besides, being a summer camp nurse for high-spirited teenagers would be as good as a vacation.

Cherry made another vain attempt to tame her rebellious curls, but the high breeze of the California mountains foiled her once again. Giving up, she knocked on the door of the cabin.

A young woman whose cap of red-gold hair was as tousled as Cherry's own greeted her with a frown. "You know we don't allow makeup here. There's a pump right outside where you can wash off that rouge."

"It's not rouge, it's me," said Cherry. The redhead was not the first to have made that mistake, but after the effort made to get a nurse to the camp, Cherry was surprised to be scolded for such a minor infraction.

"Nonsense!" snapped the redhead. "Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that?"

Before Cherry could dodge, the woman licked her own finger and rubbed Cherry's cheek. The redhead seemed more irritated than mollified when nothing came off on her finger.

"What cabin are you from?" the woman asked. "I thought I knew everyone here."

"I'm not from a cabin," explained Cherry, beginning to realize the nature of the mix-up. "I'm Cherry Ames, the new camp nurse."

"You're an adult? I thought you were one of the campers!" she exclaimed with a look of horror. Then she burst out laughing. After a moment, so did Cherry.

"I'm Sylvia Hayes, camp crafts teacher," said the redhead. "And that's not how I usually greet people, especially people I'm as happy to see as I am you! You have to pardon me. I've been run off my feet since Nurse Ashton left, and one - or maybe more than one - of the girls brought a stash of makeup. You'd be amazed how many girls around here claim to have naturally scarlet lips, cherry-red cheeks, and eyelashes longer than the tips of their noses!"

"No, I wouldn't," replied Cherry. "I've been a school nurse."

"Have you?" asked Sylvia, sounding genuinely interested. "Did you enjoy it?"

Cherry smiled, remembering the laughter of boys and girls, a midnight spent staking out the principal's office to catch a thief, and a certain teacher with whom she'd briefly imagined herself in love. But her true love had proved to be nursing itself. No man, however handsome and clever, could ever hold a candle to the thrill of a new job and the deep contentment of helping sick and injured people get well.

"I did," said Cherry. "Very much."

Sylvia grinned. "Wonderful! Let me show you my cabin - well - now it's your cabin, too."

The cabin was barely big enough for its two twin beds and cupboard. Cherry took her bags to the cupboard, then exclaimed aloud with delight. There was no room for any of the contents of her suitcase. The cupboard was filled with beautifully detailed wood carvings of mischievous gnomes riding hedgehogs, flower fairies, armored unicorns being trained by warrior elves, witches peeping from pumpkin castles... an entire world in six narrow shelves.

"That's amazing!" exclaimed Cherry. "Did you make all those? I bet people would pay a lot of money for those!"

Sylvia ducked her red head modestly. "I do sell them sometimes. Otherwise they take over any place I live at! But I get bored sitting by myself all day. And I like teaching, and teenagers."

Cherry could have stayed and examined Sylvia's fairytale world all day. But she was eager to see the infirmary and begin her work. Sylvia walked her through the woods, pausing to introduce Cherry to two more counselors, a girl with a giant yellow slug and suspiciously crimson lips, and a boy who presented them with what he called "an interesting plant specimen."

"Leaflets three, let it be!" exclaimed Cherry, Sylvia, and the slug girl in unison.

"Huh?" asked the boy, holding the sprig of poison oak perilously close to his eyes.

Cherry made him follow them to the infirmary, where she was relieved to easily find the calamine lotion.

Her next weeks were as enjoyable and relaxing as she had hoped. No one was ever so ill as to need to occupy any of the infirmary's beds overnight, but between bee stings, scrapes and sprains, coughs and colds, and the campers' inability to recall the leaflets three rhyme, she had just enough patients to prove herself useful and avoid boredom. At night she sat around a bonfire with Sylvia, the other camp counselors, and the campers, roasting marshmallows and singing songs. Occasionally she worked then too, when campers singed their fingers or got ash in their eyes.

But as the summer lengthened and more campers began to come in for tick removal, something else began to get removed. The crafts teacher was the first to find cash missing, but she wasn't the last. Other counselors and a few campers too began to report stolen money and jewelry. A thief was stalking the camp, aided by the lack of cabin locks. The camp director had the cabins searched, but in vain: none of the stolen items were found.

"It's such a shame," said Sylvia to Cherry one night as they sat by the bonfire, a little apart from the group. Sylvia was putting the finishing details on a carving of a hatching dragon, and was afraid of getting jostled by the raucous boys and girls. "Suzie never wore that ring of hers. She only brought it because she couldn't bear to part with it, even for a summer. It's all she has left of her mother."

"Want to help me catch the thief?" whispered Cherry.

As they lay in their beds at night, Sylvia often pressed Cherry to tell her stories of nursing and adventure. Her eyes gleamed at Cherry's suggestion.

"You bet!" whispered Sylvia back.

"Sylvia," Cherry said loudly. "Our cabin gets so hot at night. Why don't we spend the night in the infirmary instead? There's plenty of beds, and it's much cooler."

"Sure!" replied Sylvia. "Let's start tonight! Do you want to move all our stuff in there?"

"No, there's no need," said Cherry. "Let's just pack overnight bags and leave everything else in the cabin."

That night, after packing their overnight bags and retiring to the infirmary, the two women waited until all the lights went out. Then they crept into the woods and made their way back to their unlocked cabin. Once they had a clear view of the door, they nestled down into the shrubbery and waited.

"Hope there weren't any leaflets three," muttered Cherry.

"Nurse, heal thyself," came Sylvia's playful retort. Then Sylvia's tone softened. "I wonder who it is? It might be one of the scholarship kids, you know, who've never had any money to spend. I'll be sad if it is. Have you ever just let anyone off with a warning, Cherry, or do you always call the police?"

Cherry patted her friend's back. "Sylvia, you're a teacher and I'm a nurse. Our jobs are about using our hearts as well as our minds. Let's see who it is and why they're doing it, and then we'll decide."

They hadn't long to wait before a dark figure crept up to the door. Sylvia's warm fingers clutched at Cherry's waist in excitement. Cherry put her own fingers to Sylvia's lips. They let the figure go inside. Then, as the door once more creaked open and on Cherry's signal, they simultaneously turned on their flashlights to catch the guilty party in their double beam.

To Cherry's surprise, it was no one she had ever seen before.

"Nurse Ashton!" exclaimed Sylvia.

Nurse Ashton's mouth fell open in shock. She still clutched Sylvia and Cherry's wallets in her hands.

"What - how - why ...?" stammered Sylvia.

Nurse Ashton glared at them. "I'm not saying anything without my lawyer!"

Sylvia and Cherry looked at each other. "Police," they said, as one.

The policemen also recognized Nurse Ashton, but revealed to the startled Sylvia and Cherry that she was not a nurse at all. The woman they had known under that name was a petty thief and impersonator who obtained positions under false credentials, then made use of her knowledge of the layout and schedules to steal at her leisure. The police cuffed her and took her away, promising to return the stolen items when they retrieved them from her house.

"I'm so glad it wasn't one of the campers," said Sylvia, when they were settled back in their cabin.

"So am I," said Cherry.

"You lead such an exciting life," said Sylvia with a sigh. "I love mine, but sometimes it's so... ordinary."

Cherry pointed to the cupboard of magical creatures. "Maybe that's why you create such extraordinary things."

"You really like them, don't you?" said Sylvia.

"I love them!" said Cherry.

A faint blush stained Sylvia's porcelain features. She ducked under her bed, and emerged with something in her hands. "I hid this one just in case the thief got away with some of mine."

She held it out to Cherry. "It's yours. I made it for you."

It was carved from some rich red-brown wood, and was an entire scene large enough to require two hands to cup the base. It was a fairy nurse with delicate butterfly wings and a crown of cherries treating a host of fantastical creatures: a dragon with a splinted wing, an elfin girl with a bandaged hand, a dwarf clutching a bottle of medicine, and a foolish gnome triumphantly holding up leaflets three in its bare hand.

Cherry was amazed once again at Sylvia's talent, and touched at the dedication it had taken to make such an elaborate sculpture and keep it a secret from her own roommate until it was finished.

"I... I don't know how to thank you," murmured Cherry.

"Don't you?" asked Sylvia shyly. She was blushing again, redder and redder until her cheeks were red as Cherry's were.

Cherry was puzzled, looking at her beautiful, talented friend. Until Sylvia reached up with those slim fingers that were as gifted with a knife as Cherry's were with a syringe, and stroked Cherry's cheek.

Only men had ever touched her like that before, but the emotions she felt were familiar from her experience with the men who had. Could she be in love with another woman? Cherry had only heard of such things in whispers and innuendo, and only in terms that had nothing to do with the sweet longing written all over Sylvia's face.

Cherry carefully set down the fairy nurse on the bed, and kissed Sylvia. The other woman's lips were soft and gentle, and the arms that clutched her were strong and sure.

"I do lead an exciting life," said Cherry when she had breath again. "And so do you!"

Sylvia laughed.

Cherry and Sylvia had many splendid times together for the rest of the summer. But by summer's end Cherry had a job offer to be a nurse on a movie set, and she decided to take it. She loved Sylvia, both as she'd loved men before and as she loved her friends, which made it all the sweeter; but she loved nursing best of all.

Cherry always treasured the fairy nurse Sylvia had made for her. Whenever she looked at it, she remembered two women together in a cabin, the butterfly touch of an artist's fingers, and that life holds many different kinds of excitement.


End file.
